


I like my coffee like I like my men; hot, sweet and first thing in the morning

by MsPeppernose



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Porn Star AU, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick doesn’t like to admit he has a little crush on Pete, but he sort of likes him. But it’s a tiny crush - miniscule really, barely worth mentioning - and it’s always nice to do some harmless flirting first thing in the morning. It puts a flush in his cheeks and sets him up for the day. </p><p>The thing is, that Patrick is sure he knows Pete from somewhere. He’s been thinking it for a while, and he can’t place him at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I like my coffee like I like my men; hot, sweet and first thing in the morning

**Author's Note:**

> For [Immoral Crow](http://archiveofourown.org/users/immoral_crow/pseuds/immoral_crow) as a small thank you for so much help with my very big other fic... <3
> 
> Betad by my poor, poor boyfriend. It really must be love if he reads this trash for me. English is not his native language, so please let me know if I've any mistakes etc.

Producing music is Patrick’s favourite thing in the whole world. 

Well, second favourite thing; music is his actual favourite, but they’re connected, and engineering means he’s immersed in it, all day, every day.

Being a producer is a special thing. Artists come in with their raw materials, their art, and Patrick gets to create something around it. He gets to sand down their rough edges and hopefully make a beautiful thing a little bit more beautiful. Patrick spends his days working with his friend Joe too, who is not only an awesome person, but really fucking good at what he does. 

Being a producer can also be a very difficult job at times. Artists can be single minded in what they want and sometimes don’t understand that the entire process can take a very long time. It means that Patrick’s day can be tiring, and he works stupid hours and sometimes late into the night. His morning coffee is not as much a ritual like someone people, it’s a lifeline.

He always goes to the same place for his first coffee of the day. It’s a little place just a two minute walk from the studio, and it’s always bustling and smells amazing (fresh roasted coffee and home baked scones and muffins). _Death Valley Coffee_ is the greatest thing to happen to Patrick’s mornings for as long as he can remember.

The place is run by two guys who seem to never actually leave, and the same guy, Pete, usually works the counter, especially on busy mornings. Pete is usually chatty and friendly, always has a smile for Patrick, and makes lattes with the perfect amount of froth.

The other guy, Mikey, is great too. He’s friendly, but quiet, and he makes the most incredible baked goods that Patrick has had the pleasure of eating. Patrick regularly gets his muffins and scones for breakfast in lieu of something a little healthier, and he never regrets his decision. 

Patrick thought for a while that Pete and Mikey might be a couple because they have an unlimited amount of in-jokes and they seem pretty close, but after seeing Mikey talking closely with the same girl a handful of times, Patrick thinks that Mikey has a partner. He has no idea if Pete is attached or not, though from the huge amount of flirting that Pete does, Patrick hopes for the sake of Pete’s other half that he’s single. 

Patrick doesn’t like to admit he has a little crush on Pete, but he sort of likes him. But it’s a tiny crush - miniscule really, barely worth mentioning - and it’s always nice to do some harmless flirting first thing in the morning. It puts a flush in his cheeks and sets him up for the day. 

The thing is, that Patrick is sure he knows Pete from somewhere. He’s been thinking it for a while, and he can’t place him at all. 

The first thing that rings a bell is Pete’s Nightmare Before Christmas tattoo sleeve. It’s the first warm day that Patrick has been in the café, and Pete is wearing short sleeves – Patrick totally notices, because Pete’s arms look really good – and Patrick knows he’s seen those graphics somewhere before, but he has no clue where. He shakes it off, thinking he might have met Pete through a friend of a friend of a friend once or something. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

If Patrick is running early he sits down, in a window seat if he can, and spends his time watching the world go by and maybe even watching Pete do his thing; making lattes and mochas and cappuccinos like a coffee making ninja. If Patrick is running late, he usually texts Joe, and Joe who is a saviour, will pick him on up on his way instead. Patrick converted Joe to _Death Valley_ a while back when he got a fresh raspberry scone on his way to work one morning and wouldn’t shut up about it.

Today the roles are reversed, and Patrick picks Joe up a venti Mocha and a raspberry muffin, along with his own usual latte and an apple and cinnamon scone.

“You’re a life saver,” Joe says, gleefully ripping open the little brown bag that contains his muffin.  
“Don’t mention it,” Patrick says, and takes a gulp of his amazing vanilla latte.  
“Was your guy there?”  
“He’s really not my guy.” Patrick waves a hand dismissively at Joe.  
“Still don’t know how you know him?”  
“Not a clue.” Patrick makes a face and then bites into his scone. It’s perfect.

“Maybe you slept with him when you were drunk or something.” There’s a mocking tone in Joe’s voice that Patrick knows so well. Ever since Patrick first mentioned to Joe that he knew Pete from somewhere, Joe’s favourite way to wind up Patrick is to come up with increasingly silly ways that Patrick might know Pete.  
“Not really my style. Drunk hook-ups are not my thing.”

Joe looks at him for a moment, considering. “Okay. I’ll come up with some new theories.” 

*

Patrick notices it again a few times when there’s a particular glint in Pete’s eye, or a lilt in his voice. The familiarity is never there for more than a second, and then it’s gone until the next time. 

“Morning, Patrick,” Pete says brightly, because after so many morning conversations of course they’re on first name basis.  
“Morning, Pete.” Patrick thinks Pete looks extra cute today. He’s got a short sleeved shirt on again and Patrick checks out his ink again briefly, trying to place where he’s seen it before and coming up empty.

“The usual?”  
“Yeah. What muffins are good today?”  
“Lemon poppy seed, blueberry, double chocolate, raisin bran muffins that are super healthy, but they kind of taste healthy too, so not as much fun. These ones are amazing; toffee apple muffins. There’s gooey toffee in the middle.” He points to a stack of golden baked muffins that actually look amazing and are so big that they’re spilling over the paper cases.

“Sounds great, but I’m not sure about toffee for breakfast.”

Pete tilts his head and gives him a look. “They’re so good, I promise. There’s no rule about no toffee for breakfast. You know you want it,” he sing-songs, and it triggers a moment of déjà vu for Patrick, like he’s heard Pete say that phrase before. He just can’t imagine where. 

“They’re that good?”  
“Would I lie to you?” Pete says, and does his best angelic puppy face.  
Patrick can’t win against that. “Sure. Why not, right?” Patrick says slowly, still distracted by what he can’t remember.

The muffin, it turns out, is delicious and maybe Patrick’s favourite so far. He makes a note to tell Pete to tell Mikey next time he’s in the café.

“Was today’s muffin really good? Like really, really?” Joe asks, and he looks wistful.  
“Yeah. Probably the best yet.”  
“I made a bad decision today. I decided to have stupid, healthy oatmeal instead.”  
“Sucks,” Patrick says and gives him a sympathetic smile as he sets up the sound board for the singer that’s in the studio today.  
“Did Pete serve you?”  
“Sure. I don’t think he ever takes a day off.”

“I bet you and him were alien abduction buddies together.” Patrick just stares at him. Joe has had some fantastical theories before and Patrick has learned to just let him talk them out. “Like both of you were beamed up at the same time for experimentation. And you’ve seen his tattoos because you were both stripped and probed together.”

“Stop, Joe.” Because this is getting weird now. “Really. I’m fairly sure that’s not it.”  
“Well, maybe you just don’t remember?”  
“No, Joe. I’m confident it’s not alien abduction.”  
“I’ll get it right one day.”  
“I hope so.” Because if Patrick can’t figure it out, maybe Joe can.

*

“How’s my favourite customer today?” Pete asks one morning. Pete is so very enthusiastic for so early in the day. Patrick hates mornings with a passion. He’s seen Pete flirting with many a customer, so he knows it’s just part of the banter, but Pete saying he’s his favourite still makes his morning a little brighter. 

“You say that to all your customers, I’m sure.”  
“Only my favourite ones,” Pete says, and breaks out a shinning, face splitting grin that makes Patrick forget how to use the English language, most of the words in his head are now variations on mpff and uuuhhh. He doesn’t realise that he hasn’t answered until Pete cocks his eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, good today. Just a latte thanks.”  
“No muffin?”  
“Not today.”  
“Let me guess, you’re sweet enough?” 

Patrick shouldn’t be affected by that line. He shouldn’t. He’s a grown man, and that’s straight out of ‘Cheesy Lines 101’, and yet he fucking blushes so hard and mumbles, “Something like that.” He rubs the back of his neck with his palm and tries not to look so awkward while Pete makes his coffee. “The guys I’ve been working with are finishing up their recording today and are taking me out for lunch as a thank you. I probably shouldn’t be full of baked goods when I go, even if they’re really good muffins.”

“If you insist. But you’re missing out. There’s lemon and white chocolate ones today.”  
Fuck, they sound like good muffins. “Next time.”

"Maybe it's amnesia,” Joe offers when Patrick is in the studio, waiting to begin their next session.  
“Amnesia?”  
“Yeah. Like memory lapse.”  
Patrick rolls his eyes. “I know what amnesia is, but wouldn’t I have forgotten lots of things and not just where I know this one guy from.”

Joe narrows his eyes. “Maybe. But maybe it’s, like, localised amnesia. Like you bumped your head _in_ the coffee shop and only forgot that one thing.”  
Patrick sighs. “Maybe think of some more theories. I don’t think that’s it.”  
“You could just ask him?”  
“No. I don’t know him well enough to be awkward and weird.” Patrick stops and has a horrible thought. “What if I fucked it up and we had to get our coffee somewhere else?”  
“What if _you_ have to get your coffee somewhere else, you mean. I’m not giving up those muffins just because you have amnesia.”

Patrick throws him a dirty look just as today’s recording artists enter the studio. He’ll figure it out eventually.

*

A hot day in the city is tough to handle, and in the middle of summer there’s plenty of those sort of days to go around. While Patrick isn’t one to shed clothing as soon as the temperature goes up, it seems that Pete is. When Patrick goes to get his morning latte, Pete is looking rather good in a Metallica shirt that he’s cut the sleeves off. His arms are really nicely toned, and Patrick sees a tattoo on Pete’s bicep. It’s a winged keyhole design, and Patrick has definitely seen it before, he still can’t think where, though.  
He’s a second away from getting caught staring at Pete’s arms, when he notices he’s up next.

“Hey. Latte?”  
“Please. Vanilla.”  
“I dunno how you can drink hot coffee on a day like today,” Pete says, with a little shake of his head. “It’s only eight thirty and it’s about two million degrees. You sure you don’t want this iced?”  
“Iced?”  
“Yeah, iced coffee. Tell me you’ve had an iced latte?”  
“Nope.”  
“Jesus. Okay, you’re having this one iced. And it’s on me because you’re an iced coffee virgin,” Pete says with a grin and waves Patrick’s crumpled note away.  
“You don’t have to do that, but thanks,” Patrick says, shoving his hand back in his pocket, but he smiles and he’s sure he’s blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.  
“It’s nothing,” Pete shrugs. “Let me know if you’re into this and then I’ll introduce you to frappuccinos; coffee all blended up with ice and cream and syrup.”  
“Sounds amazing.”  
“It is. Honest. Start with this and we can talk after that,” he grins. Patrick thinks he sounds like a back street drug dealer, pedalling contraband instead of coffee, but he doesn’t say as much.

“He gave you a free coffee?” Joe looks both surprised and a little amused.  
Patrick shrugs. “Yeah. Never had an iced one before.”  
“Dude. He’s into you.”  
“He’s really not, Joe.” Even if Patrick would really like if Pete was, he knows it’s just good business sense for Pete. “People give free things away all the time, samples to get you hooked so you spend more money.”  
“Maybe. I reckon he’s into you though. Maybe he’s, like, the man of your dreams. Literally. Like, you actually dream about him, and that’s why you know him.”  
Patrick scowls, but considers what Joe’s saying. Sadly that’s the least ridiculous theory so far, except that Patrick doesn’t really believe in that sort of stuff. “Nah, I don’t think that’s it.” Though Patrick noticed that there was something very familiar about the curve of Pete’s spine and the flash of golden tummy skin that he got an eyeful of when Pete stretched up to get a new bottle of vanilla syrup. He still has no idea why, and it’s starting to drive him crazy.

*

Patrick misses his morning coffee, running far too late, with an artist he knows is very temperamental already waiting for him in the studio. To make matters worse, Joe is also running late, so it will be a caffeine free morning for both of them. After so many mornings of perfectly made lattes, Patrick bring himself to choke down the brown coloured water that passes for coffee that’s available in the studio. 

“We just gotta make it through,” Patrick mutters like a mantra.  
“I know just two more hours.” Joe is a little more relaxed and Patrick suspects that he had some _herbal refreshments_ on his smoke break.  
“ _God_ , two more hours is too long.”  
“We can do it, just gotta keep strong, man.”

Patrick is eternally grateful when the artists want to take an early break. He ducks out of the studio, and the fresh air is wonderful after being cooped up all morning, but coffee is going to be infinitely better.

“Hey, missed my favourite customer this morning,” Pete beams. It turns out that Pete is an afternoon person as well as a morning person.  
“Hey. Yeah, mornings are not my favourite time to function, and they’re even worse without coffee.”  
“I’ll hook you up,” Pete winks. Patrick’s stomach flips. “You want to try the new brownies? They’re really good, really gooey.”  
“I’m not sure it’s a brownie sort of day today.” Though maybe a sugar hit would make his afternoon more bearable.  
“Are you sure? I really think they’re Mikey’s best ones.”  
“Yeah?” 

Pete grabs a plate from behind the counter and places a brownie on it. Patrick watches him roughly chop the brownie into little bite-sized pieces and the grins as he thrusts the plate towards Patrick. “We should have a sample brownie out anyway. Try some.” 

Patrick just gives in and takes a piece, there’s no harm in a little piece of brownie, even if he’s not particularly hungry. He pops the little morsel into his mouth and, yeah okay, its’ pretty fucking good; rich and dense and very chocolatey. Pete grins again when he sees the face that Patrick makes, and then takes a piece of fudgy goodness for himself too. Pete closes his eyes for a second and makes a little satisfied groan, savouring the taste, just like Patrick is. 

For Patrick, it all comes together is a flash of memory and an image of Pete with his eyes closed, his face contorted into wild pleasure, and making those same obscene sounds swims across Patrick’s vision. It makes him a little dizzy and he has to hold on to the counter top to stead himself. It’s like a smack to the face. 

Oh god. Oh fucking god. Oh sweet fucking merciful angels. Patrick knows exactly where he knows Pete from; Porn.

Not just any porn, a _really_ good one he used to watch a lot in college. (Probably too much, but that’s not the point here.)

Patrick is now staring at Pete with his mouth open, and his half chewed brownie still unswallowed. He must look like he’s lost the plot entirely, because Pete’s face twists into a little scowl.

“I know they’re good, but I didn’t think they’re that good. You okay? I’m going to tell Mikey off if his new recipe causes embolisms.”

Patrick just about manages to speak, but he’s sweating heavily now, and he’s more than a little turned on from the memory of that porn movie. Thankfully it’s hard to panic that thoroughly and stay turned on for too long. “I gotta get back. Awesome brownie.”

Pete looks confused but raises his hand in a little wave as Patrick fucking sprints like his life depends on it to the door, fumbles with the handle and only breathes properly when he’s ten feet away from the coffee shop. 

How did he not notice before? Of course he knows Pete from somewhere, but he wouldn’t ever have put two and two together and gotten pornography, unless Pete’s gorgeous little moan had caused that sense memory.

“Are you okay?” Joe asks.  
“Hmm? Yeah. Just- yeah. Fine.” He can’t possibly tell Joe that he finally figured out where he knows Pete from. He can’t. Joe will never stop teasing him and it will make it so much worse.  
“You don’t seem it. Sit down, man. Did something happen?” Joe glances down at Patrick’s coffee cup. “Did something happen in _Death Valley_?”  
“No. It’s nothing,” he lies. “I’m probably just coming down with something.”

Patrick sits. He feels the heat of the coffee through the cardboard cup and remembers again the little blissed out expression on Pete’s face, both the one from the film, and the one he just saw. 

He somehow makes it through the rest of the day, though he’ll have to work late tomorrow to make up for the fact that all his mixing today is utter shit. Joe keeps asking him if he’s okay, and Patrick keeps fobbing him off. He can’t concentrate at all after his little revelation, and every time he closes his eyes he pictures Pete – the Pete from the porno, on his knees, shiny with sweat, hair all fucked up – and he just needs to get home.

Of course, when Patrick gets home, the first thing that he does is search through an old hard drive to see if he still has that porno on file. He has to. He has to see for himself that, yes, it really is Pete. 

When he clicks open the file and drags the bar to half way into the movie – even after all these years he knows _exactly_ where to start playing form – sure enough, there’s Pete on screen, doing wonderfully dirty things. His hair is different - longer, flat-ironed, and with a red streak through the front - but it’s him. The same Nightmare tattoo sleeve on one arm and a few the same on the other, though there’s some missing too.

He watches the Pete on screen shimmy out of his clothes, and usually by now Patrick would have his hand down his pants, but he can’t do it today. It feels too real, and too weird, and he closes the window without watching any more of it. He can’t. It doesn’t really feel fair to watch Pete get horizontal with _two other guys_ \- Jesus – when now Pete is the guy who in real life makes his coffee, and is polite and friendly to him every day. Pete has no idea that Patrick got himself off to those images for so long.

Patrick just stares blankly at the screen and wonders how this happened. And then he wonders where the hell he’s going to go get coffee from now on, because he doesn’t know if he can face Pete again after this.

Patrick gives the coffee shop a wide berth for the rest of the week. He brings a box of those little sachets of instant, flavoured coffee to the studio to have instead. They taste horrendous, and Patrick imagines that this is what hazelnut flavoured sawdust would taste like. He forces them down, telling himself that it’s better than the alternative for the moment. 

"Why the fuck are you drinking those things?” Joe asks, disgusted.  
“Just giving them a try,” Patrick says, trying and failing to keep his tone casual. Though really, Joe’s question is valid. Patrick knows his face is giving him away; these things are vile and his expression matches it.  
“If you were running late today, you should have told me and I could have picked you up a latte,” Joe says, and then adds, “From your loverboy.”  
“Stop. He’s not- he’s not anything,” Patrick’s tone is a little bit more pissed than he intended and it seems to give him away. Again.  
“I knew it. Something happened. Was it with Pete? Did you tell him you know him from somewhere?”  
“No.” Patrick’s eyes dart around the room, and finally settle on Joe’s shoes.

There’s silence for a moment, and then, “You figured it out though, right? What was it? Dirty one night stand after all?”  
“Please can we drop it?”  
Joe gives him a look. “Come on. We’ve talked about that coffee guy so often. I really need to know.”

Patrick considers it. Joe is a fairly easy going guy, and maybe he’d be good to use as a judge, to see how bad it actually is that the guy Patrick has been crushing over was in his favourite gay porn threesome. It’s not a secret that Patrick is into guys, and everyone watches porn, right?

“He was in a movie I used to watch in college.” Joe doesn’t get it, so Patrick clarifies, “An adult movie.”  
“Fuck off! Are you kidding me? Is that a joke? He’s a porn star?”  
“I dunno about porn _star,_ he was only in one section of the movie. But yeah.”  
“Dude.”  
“I’m telling you because- I actually don’t know why I’m telling you.”  
“Was it a good movie?” Patrick gives him a filthy look. “Okay, not the point!”

“So I think I need a new coffee shop.”  
“Dude, no. Don’t do that. It’s not like you told him, did you?”  
Patrick gives Joe another look. “No, of course not. I just ran.”  
“Okay. Well pretend like nothing happened. He doesn’t know. No harm.”  
“I don’t know if I can do that.”  
“It’s worth it for the really good baked goods, man. It is. If you switch coffee shops over something like that you’ll regret it. Just, like, pretend you didn’t used to jer-“  
“Joe!”  
“Sorry. Pretend you’re not into him. You’ve been doing that all along anyway.“ With that, their artists are back from lunch and they have to get back to work, much to Patrick’s relief.

Patrick decides that if he just gives himself a little break from seeing Pete, then maybe his brain won’t recite PORNOPORNOPORNO like a siren when they see each other next. 

When he gets to Friday evening he sighs with relief. He’ll revisit the awesome little coffee shop on Monday morning with the hopes that he won’t get tongue tied talking to Pete, because really he’s starting to realise how much he enjoys his and Pete’s interactions. 

He’s also noticed how much he’s missed Pete’s grin and cheesy flirting, and he didn’t see that coming.

*

When it comes to Monday morning, Patrick chickens out and asks Joe to get him a coffee. As punishment for Patrick being a wuss, Joe gets him a decaf. Joe says it’s for motivation, to make Patrick get on with it. Patrick hates Joe a little, and only partially because he might be right. 

Tuesday morning comes around and Patrick is brave. He gets his coffee, but he’s flustered and can barely make eye contact with Pete. Pete tries his best to get Patrick to smile, and he even flashes one of those huge grins, the ones where it looks like his cheeks are going to burst, but Patrick just mumbles and blushes and runs for the door splashing coffee on his shoes trying not to think of Porno Pete. 

Wednesday goes similarly.

Thursday Patrick is back to texting Joe to bring him a coffee.

Friday is different. On Friday, Patrick is super early for work, and it’s one of the days that he would usually sit the coffee shop staring out the window, but today he can’t in case he freaks out (or worse). He feels like a traitor, but he heads to the far end of the street to grab a Starbucks, even if he really wants one of Pete’s lattes. He has to walk past _Death Valley_ to get to the studio, and he’s almost there when he looks ahead and he sees Pete right outside the coffee shop. Patrick can turn on his heel, make a run for it, or – there’s no or. Pete sees him and waves. _Shit_.

“Good morning to my favourite customer. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of this place,” Pete says brightly, indicating to the shop.  
_But I’ve seen you,_ Patrick thinks. “Morning.”

“You coming in for a coffee? I’m just running out to pick up some sticky tape, but if you hang on, like, five minutes I’ll make your latte.” He looks at the green and white cup in Patrick’s hand and frowns. “Oh. I feel like I should make a joke about you cheating on me.” And Pete says it like a joke, but his face looks like he’s trying to hide that he’s hurt.  
“Um.”

“Did something happen?”  
“What? No.” _I’ve seen you naked. I’ve seen you naked._  
“Just, you haven’t been in much, and when you are you’re very quiet.”  
“No, it’s nothing.” _I used to jerk off to you. A lot._  
“Okay. I thought maybe I’d done something. Though now that I’ve said it out loud, that sounds a little silly.” Pete looks down at the street and frowns. “I didn’t do anything, did I?”  
“No. Nothing, Pete. Honest.” _It’s me. I’m a creep._  
Pete gives him a genuine, toothy grin and Patrick feels like shit. “Cool. Well I sort of missed you. Missed talking to you I mean.”  
“Yeah?”  
Pete looks shy, his usual cheeky smile is replaced with a coy one “Yeah, I told you you’re my favourite customer.” 

Then Pete smiles again and Patrick can’t help it, can’t help what comes out of his mouth. “I saw you. I mean I’ve seen you in a movie. A thing. Oh god.”  
Pete’s face changes, realisation flashing across his face. “A movie?”  
“An adult movie. Was that you?” Patrick is revaluating every time he’s every watched that porno now. He’s also wondering if he’s somehow gotten it all mixed up and it’s not Pete in that movie at all.

Pete is silent, thinking. He looks around a little, avoiding Patrick’s eyes, and his face going through a range of expressions. Finally he looks Patrick head on. “Yeah, it was me. Is that why you were all flirty? It’s funny to chat up the porn guy?” 

“No! I didn’t realise it was you for a long time. I mean, I thought you looked familiar, but I figured it was because I’ve been coming here for so long.” Patrick’s blush deepens by several shades when he realises he’s said the word _coming._  
“So why did you miss coffee this week?”  
“I figured it out.”

Pete is silent again, and Patrick can just hear the noise from the street around them and his own heartbeat which is thumping so hard. 

“So you figured it out and you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I get it.” Pete looks a little pissed but really he looks more like he’s sad.  
“No-“

“Just so you know, not that I need to explain myself, but I just did it to raise money towards college tuition.” He pauses, and then his face darkens. “But then it became one of the most liberating experiences of my life. I wouldn’t change it.”  
“Pete-“ That’s not it at all, but Pete doesn’t let him finish.  
“Maybe you shouldn’t come in for coffee anymore if you’re going to be judge-“

“Pete, no!” Patrick snaps, because Pete is so fucking off the mark it’s not funny. “I avoided the place because I thought getting a fucking boner over the guy making me coffee would be less than appropriate, but there’s nothing wrong with being in a—a movie.” Because Patrick can’t bring himself to say porno. “I watched it, I can’t judge you for being in it. I just wasn’t expecting the guy from my favourite adult movie to be the guy that flirts with me every day.” Shit, that’s a lot of information to give away in under a minute. And double shit, what if Pete hadn’t been flirting with him? “You were flirting with me, right?”  
“Yeah. I was.”

They’re both silent for a few minutes, and it’s tense, but it all drains away when Pete says, “Your favourite, huh?”

Patrick nods, not sure what else to do. Pete cocks an eyebrow and asks, “Which one?” 

Patrick just stares at him because while he’s not exactly a pornography expert, he’s only ever seen Pete in that one movie, and he wasn’t even in that much of it. But _god_ , the thought that there was more movies with Pete in them that he hasn’t seen is mind-blowing. If there had been more movies like that on his hard drive Patrick may never have actually gone to college at all though, so maybe it’s for the best. He’s curious as hell as to what they’re like, though.

“You’ve been in more than one?”  
Pete grins. “Three.”

“Three? I, uh. I’ve only seen the one. The one with the headmaster and the teacher and the supply closet,” Patrick mumbles, mortified that he is sharing his adult movie taste with someone, sharing his adult movie taste with _one of the stars._

“Oh, that was the first one. The other two are far better.” Patrick’s sure that there’s no possible way to get any redder than he already is, because he’d give a fire truck a run for its money right now, but then Pete smiles, small and honest, and leans in to press his mouth to Patricks for a kiss.

It’s such a short kiss that it’s not fair. Patrick is only just processing that fact that the guy he once spent a year jerking off to, the guy who he spent the last year flirting with and crushing on, is finally fucking kissing him with soft, warm lips, and then Pete is pulling away. 

It’s not like they can kiss the way Patrick wants while they’re on the street – open mouth, wet and dirty, with lots of tongue – but he still wants more than that little kiss, so he pulls Pete by the hem of his shirt and kisses him again, just for a second.

“You can throw that Starbucks away if you want,” Pete says as he pulls back. “It’s safe to come back inside. I know your secret now.”  
“My secret?”

“It’s sort of strange,” Pete says, like he’s changing the subject. But he’s not. “We both know things about each other that we probably shouldn’t.”  
“Like what?”  
“Well, you’ve seen me getting down and dirty on camera.” Patrick closes his eyes for a split second and tries not to think about it, because he’s spent a long time thinking about it in the past. “But if that was your favourite porno then I know what you’re into. I know a secret about you.”

Patrick smiles. Somehow that makes it less cringy, like they’re on the same page again. Patrick likes this page quite a lot.

Pete takes the cardboard cup from Patrick’s fingers and walks the five feet to the nearest trash can with it. When he disposes of it he stands right in front of Patrick and grins.

“It’s a good story to tell our grandkids though, right?” Patrick just stares at him, and his eyebrows lift so high that it probably looks as though they’re trying to make their escape. He’s not sure if he should be scared that Pete is skipping right to the part where they have grandkids together.  
“Grandkids?”  
“Yeah. Like ‘Grandpa Patrick, how did you and Grandpa Pete get together?’” 

It takes a second, but Patrick begins to feel quite amused at the thought. “’Well kids, it all started when I was a horny, lonely freshman in college, with a roommate who was never there.’ That the sort of thing you mean?”  
Pete just grins and slips his hand into Patrick’s. “Sounds good to me.”


End file.
